


i'll take what i can get, 'cause i'm too damp for a spark

by nosecoffee



Series: but turn out the lights? we're too clever for that [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Asexual Jughead, Asexuality, Crying, Domestic, Fluff, He could murder me and I'd say thanks, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Love Declarations, M/M, Self Esteem Issues, Someone hug these boys, asexual character/s, emotional bb's, healthy relationship, i love Jughead so much, referenced injury, referenced nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 07:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9982100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosecoffee/pseuds/nosecoffee
Summary: "I love you and there is no way that I'll let you be unhappy without first trying to fix it." There was a fierceness to the words that confirmed for Jughead that they were true."I don't fucking deserve you." He whispers."Yes you do." Archie insists and cups Jughead's cheek, eyes searching his face for a trace of doubt. "And you deserve so much more as well."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "When" by Dodie Clark
> 
> Please let me know if any of my representations of Asexuality are offensive or misinformed

Jellybean is giggling as Archie twirls her around, clinging to Archie's hands with hers as her feet leave the ground.

Jughead notices his aunt watching them from the kitchen window, hounding them, waiting for them to hurt her beloved niece and give her a reason to ban Jughead from ever seeing her again.

Jughead rolls his eyes, fixing the last bit of wood paneling for the ladder to the tree.

It's sturdy, and the treehouse itself is spacious, and balanced. It'd take a true force of nature to knock it down.

Jughead's positive that Jellybean will be safe.

The swing was the first thing he put up for Jellybean, just a simple red plastic swing, shaped like a flower, with a sturdy white rope down the middle. Archie bought it from a warehouse store.

The treehouse was one of Jelly's many demands on Jug Day.

That was what she called the fifth of each month when she and Jughead spent the whole day together.

They'd already been to Pop's, bought a few records at the music shop Archie now worked at, and been to the skatepark, with a skateboard borrowed from Veronica (God knows when she actually used it).

Jughead drops the hammer and steps back, hands on his hips to view his hard work.

He smiles, an uncommon occurrence unless he was in close proximity to either or both of the two people currently in the yard.

Jellybean's arms wrap around his legs and he topples to the grass with a laugh as she attempts to tickle him. Archie watches from a few meters away, endearment and joy written all over his face.

These two are the sun and moon to his fragile Earth, keeping him warm, and turning, and safe.

All he needs is Jellybean and Archie.

~

Archie is asleep.

It took a bit to get him that way, and Jughead's not sure that if he lifts a finger that Archie will stay asleep.

Jughead's fingers itch for the smooth keys of his laptop, plot running in circles in his head, a few lines repeated so that he can remember.

There's been a few times where Jughead's voiced these notes to Archie when Archie demands he stay while he sleeps. He makes Jughead recite the things he wants to write, and promises to remember.

When Jughead gets out of the shower the next morning, the notes are written on the mirror through the steam.

He struggles away from the red-heads grip, anyhow, convinced that this single line of dialogue he mouths to himself is the most important thing in the universe.

At that moment at least.

"Stay," Archie says, a hand clasped carefully around Jughead's wrist and when has Jughead ever been able to say no to him?

He frowns, but climbs back into the covers.

"What is it this time?" Archie asks from where his face is buried in Jughead's t-shirt.

"This christening, not a good one - there's this picture wall, but the house...ugh, there's a fire? I think. Might change that. And, fuckin, Eleanor Rigby is playing."

"Christening, bad. Picture wall, fire. Eleanor Rigby."

"'It's gonna take a lot more than this to get me to stay'." Jughead recites.

"Got it." Archie replies.

Archie huddles closer and Jughead sighs, feeling the whole of his body pressed to Archie's.

He thinks, perhaps, Archie would die touch-starved long before something as trivial as dying of from true starvation.

In that respect, he's much stronger than Jughead.

~

It's there when he's towelling off his hair the next morning.

_Christening, Bad. Picture Wall, House Fire. Eleanor Rigby._

_'It's gonna take a lot more than this to get me to stay.'_

~

The nearest bowling alley is an hour long train ride away. It's small. There are six lanes, and two arcade games, with a pool table taking up most of the arcade space.

It's stylised 50's, like Pop's but a little more openly.

Jughead and Archie make the ride out of Riverdale at 6, reaching the tiny town with the tiny bowling alley at 7.

They play three rounds, all of which Jughead wins, 'cause he's a nerd, Archie claims, and then scores them a bunch of chocolate from the claw machine by the door.

It's 10 when they catch the train back to Riverdale.

~

They're on the train home, and maybe Archie's a little hyped on the three Coca Cola's he had, or maybe he's just tired, but Jughead catches the statement and it makes him freeze.

"You could have your pick of the town, and you settled for me."

Jughead looks up. He doesn't know why he feels so lightheaded. "What?" He breathes. "You-you think I _settled_ on being with you?"

Archie looks confused. "Didn't you?"

"No, you halfwit." Jughead practically sneers, getting up from the seat he was stretched across and crossing the aisle to lean on the chair Archie's on. "You think anybody lives up to your standards?"

He winces. "Jug, I'm just saying-"

"What you're doing is being an idiot." Jughead snips. "I never settle for anything unless I have to. And do you really think anybody was forcing me into a relationship?"

"I'm just saying that you're so much better than me and I can't believe that out of everyone, you're with me." Archie insists. Jughead frowns, sitting down next to the red-head.

"Don't you get it, Archie?" He asks softly. "You're it for me. You've ruined me for anyone else that might ever come along. You understand me in a way no one ever has." His hand is shaking. He touches Archie's cheek anyway. "You're not second-best to anyone, at least not in my eyes."

Archie's expression softens. "Jug..."

"You're always putting yourself down, like you're not good enough, and I don't think you understand that you are good - you are _so good._ I need you to understand that I love you." Their foreheads meet and Jughead closes his eyes, listening to Archie's short breaths and the hum of the train engine.

"You do?" Archie questions, voice quiet between them.

"Of course. I don't let just anybody build a treehouse for my sister."

~

It's easy to forget, sometimes, that once he was totally dependant on himself. It's easy to forget that there was a time in his life when he didn't walk down the stairs of the Andrews household to make coffee, to find Fred Andrews already in the kitchen, nursing a mediocre cup of his own making.

"Morning, Fred." Jughead greets, pulling one of Archie's old hoodies, from before he got buff, over his head.

"Jughead." Fred yawns into the back of his hand. "How's school?"

He shrugs, pressing a button on the coffee machine, and shoving a cup under the dispenser, unwilling to waste a drop. "Alright. Could be better, but I'm not dead, so I can't really complain."

The older man nods. "Pop treating you well?"

"Of course." Jughead scoffs, listening to the soothing noises of coffee beans being ground.

"You and Archie." Fred states and Jughead looks up through bleary eyes.

"Yes. What about us?" He asks, trying to be cautious.

"You're being careful, aren't you?" Fred looks uncomfortable and Jughead frowns, unsure as to what Fred is implying.

"I should think so." Jughead replies.

Fred shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before saying, "I just don't want to see you or my son hurt."

"I don't want to see him hurt either, Fred." Jughead states, with a confidence that he hopes Fred sees. There's a creaking at the stairs and Fred chugs the remainder of his coffee before clapping Jughead on the shoulder.

"Good, good. Well, I'm off." He speed walks from the house and Jughead turns towards a bewildered looking Archie, reaching for his mug of coffee.

"I think your dad just gave me the shovel talk." Jughead tells him.

Archie quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

Jughead snorts, swallowing his bitter mouthful (just the way he likes it). "Yeah. I think he also thinks we're having sex."

"Oh wow." Archie laughs and runs a hand down Jughead's arm on the way to the coffee machine.

He swears when it asks him to empty the grounds, and refill the beans.

~

Jughead sees the expression Archie makes when he watches Jughead storm into the room. He dumps his bag by the bed, kicks off his shoes and strips off his shirt before slamming the ensuite door behind him.

He strips numbly, clothes scattered over the flattened blue bathmat, and steps into the shower, as if it's routine.

He thinks he's somewhere in the middle of using the soap when it slips out of his hand and he finally breaks.

The sob that wrenches through Jughead's lips is not a sound he ever considered that he'd make. It's a mournful sound, a wrecked one, and he sinks to his knees under the spray of the shower, finally letting the tears he's been holding back out.

Jughead hears the door open, hears it close, feels Archie's hand on his back, feels him step under the rapidly cooling spray.

"Jug, breathe, breathe." Archie says, voice calm but shaky. He's kneeling behind Jughead, a hand placed in the middle of his back, rubbing soothing circles into the tanned skin.

"Talk to me, what's wrong?"

Jughead bumps his head into the wall, whimpers in pain, in frustration, so mad at himself.

"It's Jelly," he says, his voice cracking, "they won't let me see her - they're saying it's all my fault-"

"What happened to Jelly?" Archie asks, calm, gentle, a centre to this madness.

Jughead presses a hand to his mouth, so embarrassed that Archie's seen him like this, so vulnerable and broken, so horrified. "Fell off the swing - broke her arm -oh, god- I've really _lost_ her this time-"

"They won't let you see her?"

"No." Archie shuts off the water. "They don't want me near her. Saying its 'the last straw'. What were all the _fucking others?"_

"Jug."

"I can't fucking take it, Archie. She's the last one of my fanily who hasn't fucked off or died. I need her or I'm _nothing._ And they won't even let me apologise. They wouldn't even let me see her. They wouldn't let me near her."

Archie ushers him into his arms, pulling Jughead in close, and carefully running his hands along his hot, water-slicked skin.

Jughead can't really do anything but cry.

It's a while later, when he thinks he's just about cried himself to sleep, that he says, "They accused me of trying to kill her. Said the rope had been cut. They're fucking over exaggerating. Those bastards."

He feels Archie tense, feels him grip Jughead a little tighter. Feels the familiar rumble of anger in his chest. "Oh, Jug. No. You can't believe that." Archie whispers, stroking his black, black hair, gently.

"You think I want to?" Jughead chokes and squeezes his eyes shut. "What are they gonna tell Jelly? Horror stories of her evil older brother who tried to murder her? What if she believes them? What if she never trusts me again?"

"She will, Jug." Archie assured him, arms shaking minutely. Even Jughead could tell that even he didn't quite believe it. "You have to have faith that she will."

"What if she doesn't?" There was a pause.

"You still have me. Eventually you can earn her trust back."

Jughead shakes his head, pulling out of Archie's grasp and wiping his eyes. "It would never be the same, Arch. And besides, what is the Earth without the moon?"

Archie's expression was a sad, loving one. "It'll be okay, Jug. I swear. And if it doesn't get there itself, I'll make it."

"Archie..." Jughead bit his lip and felt Archie delicately take his hand, squeezing ever-so-slightly.

"I love you and there is no way that I'll let you be unhappy without first trying to fix it." There was a fierceness to the words that confirmed for Jughead that they were true.

"I don't fucking deserve you." He whispers.

"Yes you do." Archie insists and cups Jughead's cheek, eyes searching his face for a trace of doubt. "And you deserve so much more as well."

~

They go see Jellybean the next day.

Jughead's aunt sneers and hurls insults and accusations which Archie deflects and challenges.

Jellybean makes Jughead sign her cast, claiming that it's the most exciting thing to happen since Jughead lost her at Veronica's house.

Archie drives him home and Jughead falls asleep.

~

"How long have you known?"

"Known what?"

"That you were gonna marry me."

"Three years - at least. You?"

"Since Kindergarten."

"That long?"

"Archibald, I don't share food with just anybody; you should know that by now. I knew from that first day. The fact that I shared my sandwich with you was a sure sign that you were about to get a lifetime supply of Jughead Jones."

"Jug..."

"I've been practicing my vows since the second grade."

"You nerd. You sound like Betty."

"I'm much cooler than Betty."

"Don't let Veronica hear you say that."

"Veronica can catch these hands."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Believe it, pretty boy, it's real."

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I really hope you enjoyed this. If you did, please feel free to leave a comment and/or kudos, and track me down on Tumblr @nose-coffee. Again, thank you!


End file.
